


Shack 44

by torch



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Canadian Shack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-20
Updated: 2001-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:41:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/204034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torch/pseuds/torch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan in a Canadian shack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shack 44

"It appears to be a rather primitive planet." Obi-Wan stacked the wood next to the simple metal stove and rubbed snow out of his eyebrows with the back of his hand. "No sign of any advanced energy technology, and I can't say I'm too impressed with their building standards."

Qui-Gon looked up from his attempt to fuse the broken glass back into the window frame. "We cannot judge an entire world by a single abandoned shack, Padawan."

Obi-Wan nodded. "No, Master. Abandoning this shack does indicate a measure of common sense, if nothing else." Building and lighting a fire was familiar work, quickly done. He straightened up and held his hands over the stove as the metal began to heat. "I still think we should attempt to find whatever passes for civilization around here. Perhaps this is a common occurrence, and they have means of getting us back that don't involve waiting in a drafty one-room cabin in the middle of a vast field of snow."

"This is where the temporal rift opened." Qui-Gon came over to warm his hands, too. "I feel it would be unwise to leave."

"We have no food," Obi-Wan pointed out.

"We were ripped away from the middle of a fourteen-course dinner. You can't possibly be hungry."

"Not yet," Obi-Wan said darkly. "But I will be."

Qui-Gon looked down at him. Then he reached out and pulled Obi-Wan into a close embrace. Obi-Wan blinked, but put his arms around Qui-Gon in return; his master gave off more heat than the stove. He pressed his cold nose into Qui-Gon's chest. There were meditations that began like this, face to face, although that always seemed to translate into face to clavicle for the two of them. Qui-Gon's hands on his back were large and warm. Obi-Wan smiled.

"That's better," Qui-Gon said.

"I was just thinking that it is advantageous in some circumstances to have a large master. You give off more body heat." Obi-Wan tilted his face up. "You are going to keep me warm, aren't you?"

"It is my responsibility to see to your bodily comfort," Qui-Gon said gravely, and kissed him.

Obi-Wan laughed into the kiss. "If the rift reopens now," he said, "we'd land in the middle of the banqueting hall like this—"

"Surely this is nothing to remark on. I can think of more compromising positions," Qui-Gon said, and dropped to his knees.

Obi-Wan shivered. "Yes?"

"Yes." Warm hands. Cold air. Hot, hot mouth.

"Oh, _yes_." He closed his eyes and shifted his hips, pushing forward, deeper, taken in without hesitation. Qui-Gon's hand moved up and down the back of his thigh. "As compromising positions go," Obi-Wan got out, "this is one of my — favorites—"

The cold air on the back of his neck seemed deliberate, an enhancement, something to bring out the heat of Qui-Gon's mouth in sharp, exquisite contrast. Obi-Wan flung his arms out, arched up as though he could fly. White lightning embraced them both as he came.


End file.
